


Got Your Back

by Doooooooom



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Massage, Newtvember, No Plot/Plotless, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doooooooom/pseuds/Doooooooom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The workload is taking its toll on Hermann's shoulders. Luckily, Newt is a dab hand at shoulder massages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got Your Back

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who actually knows about massage technique... I have no actual technical understanding, this is just based off memories of massages I have had.

“And _that's_ why you're wrong.” Newt concluded triumphantly, leaning over Hermann's shoulder so that he couldn't be ignored.

“Newton, you have _no_ idea what you are talking about.” Hermann scoffed, not even bothering to look up from the screen.

“Uh, actually, I _do._ I have about as much idea about it as it is possible to have. And you are wrong, dude.” Newt clapped a hand on Hermann's shoulder for emphasis. “Wrong, wrong, wro... Whoa.” He frowned and prodded experimentally at the junction of Hermann's neck and shoulder.

“Will you stop that!?” Hermann swatted at him irritably.

“You are _super_ tense, man.” Newt continued to prod incredulously at Hermann's shoulder.

“Yes, well. Hardly surprising, is it?” Hermann snapped. “Working under pressure will have that effect in the best of circumstances, never mind that I have to contend with your incessant, _misinformed_ interference!” Hermann twisted away and batted at Newt's hand again. “Will you just...” He made a shooing gesture. Newt ignored it and kept digging his thumb in, with a look of fascination on his face.

“Like, I didn't even think it was actually humanly possible to be this tense. It's like you've got solid metal casing instead of muscle.” As he spoke, he kept working his thumb along Hermann's shoulder. “Is it because you're secretly an android? 'Cause that would be cool and also I feel like it would explain a whole lot of things, actually.” Hermann rolled his eyes.

“Very droll, Newto- Ah!” His face twisted as Newt's thumb found a particularly tight knot along the edge of his left shoulder blade.

“Wow, that's a good one, huh?” Newt grinned and pushed on it harder, bringing his other hand up to work the parallel spot on the right shoulder. Hermann drew a slow, controlled breath through gritted teeth.

“Just go back to your work, will you?” He shuffled his chair closer to the desk, but Newt moved with him, doggedly kneading with his thumbs to see if he could elicit another reaction.

“Come on man, don't tell me that doesn't feel good. Your shoulders are _wrecked_.”

“And you are probably only going to exacerbate their condition, poking around blindly like a... Like a baboon trying to... To fly a helicopter!” Hermann's voice caught and his hands balled into tight fists as Newt's insistent prodding found its mark.

“Okay, first, baboons in helicopters? _What_? Second, I do happen to know a thing or two about how muscles work, you know? I'm not gonna accidentally flip you upside down or something.” Newt frowned thoughtfully, but his hands kept working. “Uhh, I mean, assuming you're the helicopter in this scenario. And, um, third, I'm actually wicked good at this. So maybe just let me do you a favor and be grateful for once.” Hermann opened his mouth to reply, but gave in and just nodded in wordless resignation. As much as the impromptu massage was painful, it was also surprisingly soothing. “It'll go better if you take your jacket off, though.” Newt tugged at the back of Hermann's lapel.

“What!?” Hermann crossed his arms protectively and clutched at his elbows.

“Oh my god. I'm not asking you to strip off. Just the jacket, 'cos you've got like a million layers on and it's not, y'know, ideal.” Hermann side-eyed Newt, but accepted help removing his blazer. Newt hung it on the back of the chair and then slipped his hands in through the armholes of Hermann's knitted vest to work his thumbs against the thin cotton shirt underneath. Without his top two layers to diffuse the pressure, Hermann was caught out by the intensity and gasped. “Too hard?” Newt asked.

“Er, just slightly, perhaps...” Herman replied faintly. Newt continued on, this time with a lighter touch. His sturdy fingers worked methodically around the perimeter of Hermann's shoulder blades, deftly coaxing apart the snarled, stiff muscles. Hermann's face contorted as tight, painful knots revealed themselves under Newt's hands, but he pursed his lips firmly against further outbursts. As the knots unravelled, Newt leaned in harder and harder, putting all his weight into the push. Hermann braced against the desk, his breath hissing through his clenched jaw.

Once Newt had finished inching his way around the perimeter of both shoulder blades, he withdrew his hands. Hermann flexed his newly-mobile shoulders back and forth and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He was about to grudgingly thank Newt when he felt fingers alight gently either side of his neck, and two thumbs tucked under his collar and pressed into the skin of his nape. Hermann's breath caught for a moment at the unexpected skin contact, but as Newt's warm fingers coaxed the tension out of his neck he sighed appreciatively. Newt stroked his thumbs firmly up and down the back of Hermann's neck. “Holy crap, man, how have you even been moving your head? That's gotta feel a heap better already, am I right?” Hermann didn't move, but there was a small 'hm' of agreement, and Newt knew that was the best he was going to get. “Yeah, well, I know I'm not wrong,” he continued. “OK, tip your head.” Hermann obliged, leaning his head to the left. Newt's right hand slipped under the shoulder of Hermann's vest and emerged from the neck opening. He pushed down at the base of Hermann's neck, making Hermann flinch sharply. “Sorry, dude.” Newt eased off a bit and continued. “How's that?” Hermann nodded and exhaled slowly as Newt's fingertips nibbled away delicately at the tension.

About halfway along Hermann's shoulder, Newt found an especially stubborn knot. After kneading it for some time with all the pressure his thumbs could muster, he resorted to using his elbow on it, causing Hermann to yelp and jerk away. “Alright, man?” Newt checked. Hermann replied with a strangled affirmative, so Newt continued digging determinedly. “What do you even _do_ with this shoulder, dude? 'Cause I think maybe you shouldn't any more.” He rose onto the balls of his feet and grunted as he bore down on the knot with all his weight. Hermann clenched his jaw and pushed back against Newt's force, the strain escaping in a harsh exhalation between his gritted teeth until he couldn't take any more.

“Stop!” He gasped. He reached up and pushed Newt's elbow away, then gingerly patted at the troublesome area himself. Newt butted a finger in as well, which Hermann swatted away. “Leave it be!” He grumbled. “That's quite enough of that.” Newt ignored him, and ran his thumb around the spot.

“Y'know... I think I got it.” He said with a hint of triumph.

“Well... Good.” Hermann briefly considered calling a halt to the whole proceeding, but Newt was already going again, plying the top of Hermann's shoulder with persistent fingers.

When Newt reached the end of Hermann's shoulder, he returned to where he'd started. But this time, instead of using his fingertips, he rested his forearm over the base of Hermann's neck, and leaned into it as hard as he could.

“Aah! Fffffu-!” Hermann cried out and slammed his hands on the desk. Newt lifted his arm.

“Okay? Keep going?” Despite his pained expression Hermann nodded, so Newt kept going. He slowly advanced his arm along Hermann's shoulder, building a rhythm as he went. Shift, lean in, stand back up. Shift, lean _in_ , stand back up. Each lean in wrung an agonised face and a stifled moan from Hermann.

Reaching the end of Hermann's shoulder again, Newt gave his upper arm a bit of a friendly rub, before centring himself. He gently moved Hermann's head to the other side, and began the process anew on Hermann's other shoulder. On this side there was no monster knot to battle with, and Hermann's eyes drifted closed as he relaxed.

Once he'd finished with Hermann's shoulders, Newt righted Hermann's head again. He pressed his thumbs in firmly either side of Hermann's spine, just below his shirt collar. A whimper escaped Hermann's lips.

“Does it hurt there? It feels pretty tight.” Newt asked, pushing a bit harder. Hermann swallowed another whimper and silently shook his head. Strictly speaking it did hurt, but the pressure against his stiff, sore spine was most welcome. He took a deep breath and tried to just relax into it. Newt worked carefully down Hermann's back, rubbing small circles with his thumbs on either side of each vertebra. A barely audible 'mmm' was Hermann's one concession to the satisfying release of aching muscles.

Just below Hermann's shoulder blades, Newt hit pay dirt. Hermann's eyes flew open. “ _Oh, Gods!_ ”

“Ah-ha!” Newt grinned victoriously and drove the knuckles of his index fingers firmly into the spot. He was rewarded with an undeniable groan.

“A little... Lower.” Hermann choked. Newt shifted his hands, and pushed again.

“There?”

“Up.”

“There?”

“Out a bit.”

“There?”

“ _Yes... Yes, just there!_ ” Hermann hissed, his eyes screwed shut with the pain. Newt leaned in a bit more and drew circles with his knuckles.

“How's that?” He asked. There was no reply other than a long, low moan that trailed off into blissful silence. “Heh,” Newt smirked. “Told you I was good.” Hermann's reflexive response was a derisive snort, though he realised it was probably too little, too late to salvage his dignity at this stage.

An insistent buzzing sound drew Hermann's attention. He reached into his pocket for his phone, and found an appointment reminder for a meeting in five minutes.

“Ah, shit. Was I supposed to do something for that?” Newt asked, looking over Hermann's shoulder. He shrugged. “Too late now, anyhow. You ready to go?” He clapped his hands on Hermann's shoulders. Hermann paused awkwardly.

“I, er... I need to collect a few things. You go and I'll be along shortly.”

“No hurry, man. I'll wait.” Newt leaned against the desk and failed to notice the rosy tinge creeping up Hermann's neck.

“Erm... Perhaps you could go ahead and... Convey apologies for my lateness?” Suggested Hermann, making no move to go. Newt made a dismissive noise.

“Seriously? How much stuff do you even need to grab? Two minutes isn't gonna matter. Just get your stuff and we'll go.” Hermann still didn't budge.

“Newton! Will you just go on ahead, and I will catch up shortly!” Newt held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Geez! Don't get all tensed up again, you'll undo my good work.” Hermann glared at him. “A-and now you're doing the death stare, so you know what, I'm just gonna go to that meeting. Don't be late!” Newt called back flippantly as he sauntered away. Hermann stared determinedly at the desk and tried to list his ten least favourite pairs of socks in reverse order of preference, instead of thinking about the feeling of strong, warm hands at his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to decadent_mousse for reading this over before I posted it!


End file.
